The next week in the mines goes by relatively quickly. Work is still draining, and the conditions are awful, but I endure it. It was probably more difficult having to explain to Vick why he wasn't allowed to learn how to hunt yet. He's still being moody about it. It's Sunday and I'm getting ready to go meet Katniss, but I'm not sure what to do about Rory. He's still asleep I can't decide whether to wake him or not. I know it's selfish, but he's spent everyday this week with Katniss, and today is supposed to be my day. I realize instantly how stupid that is after I think it, because it isn't like I'm competing with my little brother for Katniss' affection. No, I'm competing with Katniss for Katniss' affection.

I walk across from my bed on one the right side of the bedroom to the other side, where Rory and Vick's beds are situated. Rory is laid out on his stomach, completely out. He's always been a heavy sleeper. I take a seat on the edge of his mattress and try to shake him awake. After the first two light nudges aren't effective, I pull his pillow out from under his head and he jerks awake. He look confused for a moment before looks up and sees me.

"What is it, Gale?" Rory whispers.

"Are you coming with me to meet Katniss this morning?"

"No," he mumbles, grabbing his pillow back from me. "Katniss said I could stay home today."

"That was nice of her," I tell him. He could have informed me of it last night. I just assumed he would.

"I have some homework to finish for tomorrow anyway. And I don't want to interfere with your alone time with Katniss." Kids are too damn perceptive.

Rory, Vick and my Mother to a lesser degree all needle me about my relationship with Katniss, or lack thereof. I understand they do it because of how close we are, and how much we've depended on each other. The premise of their comments is what bothers me though. Which is that I just can't admit my feelings to myself or directly to Katniss. They haven't had to sit and listen despondently to Katniss trash the prospects of marriage and children because of the conditions we live in. I honestly don't blame her for it, for wanting to lessen the chances of being hurt.

Of course, I couldn't allow Rory's comment to go unpunished. This time I pull his pillow and swing it at his head. The small thump it makes is satisfying, but Rory just grabs it again a proceeds to go back to sleep. I'll have to use something harder next time.

The weather outside today is dreadful. The sky is a depressing hazy grey, and a steady drizzle is coming down. I've only walked a few minutes and my hair is already plastered to my head. The wet ground has turned into a black, muddy mess. The weather does seem appropriate for the day. Today the Tributes return home. Normally the mentors, former Victors, return home with the bodies of their fallen Tributes immediately after the presentation of the Victor. Apparently, this year the Capitol wasn't so eager to send anyone home quickly. I'm sure everyone there was given a lecture on proper, Capitol-approved behavior. I doubt it did anything to make Haymitch Abernathy any less of a raging drunk.

I don't hear the tell tale buzzing that signals the prison fence is on, and Rory and Katniss didn't have any problems this week, but I won't chance it. I pick a stick off the ground that broke off a nearby tree, and toss it against the fence. Nothing spectacular happens on contact, and it simply falls to the ground. I slide my way through the inert cables and into the forest. Katniss managed to beat me here today, as I find her sitting on a rock, fiddling with the string on her bow. She doesn't notice me until I'm practically standing on top of her. She almost jumps up when she realizes I'm there.

"Dammit Gale, don't do that!" Katniss shouts, picking up her bow from where she dropped it on the ground.

"You should listen harder, " I admonish her and she scoffs at me. "Something wrong with your bow?"

"Not yet, but the string is getting frayed. I'm going to have to replace it soon."

"We should probably make more of them, especially now with Rory learning as well."

"You should check to see if yours has dried out yet," Katniss tells me.

I look at her in honest confusion. "Why in the world would my bow be wet? It hasn't rained in the past few days."

"Rory got so excited when he managed to shoot that squirrel yesterday, that he tossed the bow up in the air behind him. It landed in the stream," Katniss recalls with a smile.

"Hmm, he told me about the squirrel obviously, but didn't mention the bow."

"He just wants to impress you, Gale. You're his hero."

"Hero?"

"Yes. He talks about you all the time. Asks questions about the things you can do, whether or not he's doing things the same way or as well."

Rory and I have always been close. He was old enough when our father died, to feel the full impact of that loss, just as I was. He didn't handle it well and it took a long time for me to help him deal with it. I would have probably have been the same as he was, but the responsibility of taking care of a family distracted me from a lot of my grief-that, and the undeniable anger. I've always done my best to try and turn Rory into a good person and be a role model, so I guess I'm not that surprised that he looks up to me. It just makes me want to protect my family more.

"I started working on snares with him," I tell Katniss. "I let Vick try some too. Has Rory tried any? He didn't tell me."

"He got a few of them rigged up. He needed a little help knowing where to place them, but otherwise they were fine."

We set off together today. We check the snares first like always and reset them. The haul is pretty good, because we caught three squirrels and a rabbit. I threw them into my bag and we traveled deeper into the forest, where the trees are denser. The going is a little slow because we have to duck and dodge branches, but half way through it opens up again into a clearing. As soon as we step into it, my eyes catch movement ahead, and I place a hand out to halt Katniss from going any further. Right in the clearing ahead of us, a group of wild turkeys are standing, no idea that we see them. Usually we have to work a little harder, but I hear Katniss next to me lining up an arrow, so I do as well. As soon my right hand begins drawing back the string I whisper, "Left," and pull and launch. Right after I let go, I can feel Katniss' arrow fly by my ear. The two turkeys that we targeted are dead on the ground, and the remaining one has taken off into the woods.

Katniss and I each place a turkey in our respective bags, before we make our way back towards our meeting spot. On the way back we stop occasionally so Katniss can pick up herbs for her mother, and we also gather some wild berries. When we reach our destination, I take our bows and place them back in the log and then take a seat next to Katniss, who is already snacking on the berries we picked. She passes them over to me, and I throw a hand full into my mouth. The juice fills my mouth as I bite through their thick skin. The little red berries are tart, but not to the point where they're off putting. I take a few more and then I lie back, realizing I hadn't even noticed that the rain had stopped at some point.

"They're coming back today," Katniss comments suddenly, bringing my concentration back.

"I know."

"Prim wanted me to go with her to the train station to show support for the families. I think she is friends with one of the Tributes' siblings."

"What did you tell her?" I know the answer, but I ask anyway.

"No. I can't be there for that. Prim is just too innocent, nothing like that shakes her. I don't think I could take seeing them unloading one of those wooden boxes, because it would just make me think that next year I could be in it or Prim, and I'll be the one waiting to pick it up."

"I won't let that happen," I say passionately, meaning every word even though I have to no idea how I would stop it.

"There isn't anything you could do Gale."

Now I sit up and look at her. "I would figure something out, anything."

"They would kill she you before you could," she argues with me, eyes flashing.

"It would be worth it," I offer back. "I'd rather die standing on my own terms, then a slave to their will."

"But I wouldn't want that. I don't want to live if you have to die for it," she practically yells at me, grabbing my hands.

I sigh, the fight leaving me, and grip her hands back. "This is all a fucking mess."

"It is," she agrees, dropping her forehead onto my shoulder.

"We could still leave," I state, moving my arm around her shoulder. "I still mean it. Let's just take our families and go. We could go into the forest and find the ocean, and follow the coast south, away from the District."

Katniss shakes her head against my shoulder. "Nothing has changed since the last time you said it Gale. There's a chance one of us may die if we stay, but those chances would be almost certain if we ran. They wouldn't ignore eight missing people."

"You're right," I acknowledge regretfully. "I just wish something would happen. I'm so tired of waiting."

The Hob is almost deserted when we get there, almost like everyone wants to stay in his or her home and not confront the fact that the Capitol is delivering bodies today. The only people around are the people selling things. We walk through the rows until we reach Greasy Sae, who we sell one of the turkeys to. I leave Katniss to handle the transaction and take a walk around the Hob. It's when I'm doing this that I realize that the train from the Capitol must have already arrived. Walking into the Hob comes Haymitch Abernathy, dressed in fine clothes, but looking likes he has rolled around in them a few times, and with what looks like a developing black eye. He also looks unsteady on his feet, which really isn't anything new. Neither is the fact that he walks over to Ripper, the District purveyor of white liquor.

I don't know what moves me to do it, but suddenly I find myself walking over to him right as he's pulling out money to pay Ripper, who has already handed over two full bottles of liquid that looks like water, but burns going down like fire. I would know from experience. Moving closer, I keep going until I'm standing directly behind him. He must feel me there, because he looks over his shoulder staring at me like I'm a nuisance. At least he knows who I am. We've talked in passing a few times in the Hob, and he's actually shown his face in the Seam when some of the miners get together to get drunk.

"What do you want, kid?" he mutters.

I don't really know why I'm talking to him either, but something inspires me to keep going. "You're back already?"

"Was supposed to be back a week ago."

"Why weren't you?"

"Why do you care?" he fires back.

"Just curious."

He stares at me, like he's trying to get a read on me. "In case you missed it, there was a little...incident...during the presentation of the Victor. President Snow wanted to make sure District 11 was secure before he sent anyone back."

"Is it secure?"

"Ask the five hundred Peacekeepers that are stationed there now," Haymitch quips, reaching for his bottles. That is a lot of Peacekeepers.

"And what of Thresh? Is he still alive?"

"Alive for now, later...who knows. He's living under supervision at the moment."

"Is he in District 11?"

I think I've pushed my luck because Haymitch looks tired of my questions. "That's enough kid." He looks around the Hob, for what I don't immediately know. "There are ears and eyes everywhere. Are you looking to get yourself shot?"

"Why would it matter to you if I did?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks darkly.

"It means, do you even care about those kids who get on the train with you every year? Or are they just a hindrance to your drinking?"

Now I certainly have his attention, because he puts his liquor down and moves himself so we're face to face, just inches away, and I can smell the strength of the alcohol on his stinking breath. "What would you know about it?"

"I know that every time I see you, you wobble around like a fool. I know that every year the District 12 Tributes look scared out of their wits, and have no idea what to do when they get into the arena or their interviews. I know every year you show up with two wooden boxes." On the last one, I bend my head forward so close to his, that if someone didn't know better they would think I was trying to kiss him.

He looks ready to kill, and I can't help but remind myself that he's a Victor, and actually has killed before. But I'm young, strong, and stubborn, so I don't move away even an inch.

"Gale, what the hell are you doing?" That's Katniss. I look behind me and see her looking at the scene in complete confusion. She swings her head back and forth looking at the both of us. Unfortunately, I shouldn't have turned my head because the next thing I know, two strong hands are gripping my shirt and pinning me against the wall.

"You think you got it all figured out, don't you kid? Well you don't know shit about anything. I could tell you things that would make your hair curl. What ever you think you know is really one hundred times worse," he finishes before letting me go.

"So tell me," I challenge him, fixing my bunched up shirt. "Let me hear your stories."

Haymitch looks amused at me, pretty close to full on condescending, and laughs a little. "You got fire, kid, I'll give you that. You're not very bright, though." He turns to pick up his liquor again, and I think he's going to leave, but he turns back to me. He moves close and whispers. "You're a miner aren't you?" I nod at him in affirmation. "Next Sunday, we'll see if you like my stories."

"Where should I meet you, when?" I ask when I realize I need details.

"I'll find you." That's all he says and he then he's leaving, but not before he takes a swig out of one of his fresh bottles.

A hand comes out of nowhere, and turns me around, and I'm met with a thoroughly frustrated Katniss. "I'll ask you again, what in the hell was that Gale? Everyone was watching." She must realize that those same people are still watching because she grips my arm and steers me out of the Hob.

"I'm not sure," I tell her completely truthfully when reach the open air. I really have no idea why I started talking to Haymitch, but it obviously sparked something in him, and now I'm curious as to what. "We started talking and things just got out of hand. He was drunk."

"That isn't anything new Gale. You should have just let him be."

Maybe I should have, but I swear there is something deeper going on with him. I could see it in his eyes. There was hate there. Not hate for me, maybe some dislike and annoyance for me, but the hatred was for the Capitol. On the way back home, Katniss and I are quiet, not uncomfortably so, but the silence only breeds more curiosity about what awaits me next week.